Secrets & Seductions (5 page)

True to form, Aaron heard it, too. “Careful, man.” A grin broke on his long, homely face as he started backing away. “Your words say ‘no, no,' but your eyes say ‘let's get naked.'”

With a laugh, Morgan waved him off. “That's your fantasy, not mine.”

“And a great fantasy it is,” Aaron called after him. “When you're picking out the ring, just remember that I warned you, and don't hit me up to be best man.”

Morgan ignored his last comment, but a few minutes later when he was standing under the hot blast of the shower, his mind veered to it. Was his brainstorm just a flimsy excuse to see her again?

As he toweled himself dry, he didn't waste time
analyzing his motives. His parents hadn't raised him to put his own selfish needs first. Other people counted on him and he didn't let them down.

Wrapping the towel around his waist, he walked into his bedroom. This morning he paid no attention to the soothing shades of pearl gray and charcoal as he finished dressing. He was in a sudden hurry to get to work.

 

Emma had stayed up late watching movies, and the next morning the phone woke her. As she rolled over to grab the receiver, not yet awake enough to think about screening the call, Posy protested from her nest behind the bend of Emma's knees.

“Hold on for a minute, okay?” Emma told the cat. “Hello?”

Silence greeted her. The telemarketers must be starting early. The clock by her bed said it was barely past nine.

“Hello?” she said again, some of her surliness over being woken up leaking into her tone.

“Emma Wright?”

She didn't immediately recognize the voice, but it sounded familiar. Maybe it was a callback about a job interview.

She sat up straighter, wishing she had some water as she consciously sweetened her tone. “This is Emma.” With her free hand, she patted Posy so the cat would be quiet.

“I'm sorry to bother you,” the man's voice continued. “I, um, didn't mean to disturb you.”

Damn, he could tell she was still in bed. Emma's cheeks grew hot at the idea that he'd probably heard her comment to Posy and assumed Emma wasn't alone.

“No, no, it's okay,” she replied eagerly. “You didn't bother me at all. How can I help you?” She still couldn't place the voice, but if it turned out to be a salesman on the other end of the line, she was going to be really, really annoyed.

“This is Morgan Davis from Children's Connection,” he said. “We met the other day.”

Emma nearly dropped the receiver and the muscles of her throat closed so tight that she could hardly croak out a reply.

“Did you change your mind?” she asked.

“About what?” He sounded puzzled.

“My parents' identity,” she replied. “Why else would you call me?”

When she heard him sigh, her heart plummeted.

“I'm sorry,” he said. “I thought I made it clear that your file is confidential and there's nothing I can do.”

She pushed her hair back from her face, fully awake now. If this was a personal call, she was going to slap him with a harassment suit for getting her hopes up.

“What, you had to call in case I didn't get that al
ready?” she snapped. “You and I have nothing else to discuss!”

“Please don't hang up,” he said quickly. “The reason I'm calling is to offer you a job.”

M
organ Davis had said the magic word.
Job.
It was the only thing that prevented Emma's hand from slamming down the receiver. Her cat leaped down from the bed with obvious annoyance, tail twitching.

“What do you have in mind?” Emma asked cautiously.

The director of Children's Connection hadn't struck her as a player, despite his awesome appearance. He'd been totally businesslike, but a woman couldn't be too careful and Emma had been wrong before. If he suggested they meet somewhere cozy—like a bar—to discuss it, she was definitely hanging up.

“Let me explain,” he replied. “Every year a group
of us takes two weeks of our vacation time in August to put on a camp session for some of the kids who haven't yet been placed with adoptive families,” he replied. “Everyone pitches in wherever we're needed. It's a lot of fun.”

“How would this apply to me?” she asked as soon as she realized that he was talking about volunteering. Since she'd told him she had lost her job, he probably figured she wasn't working at all and had a lot of time. She didn't have that luxury; even the video store job put a little money in her pocket.

Before she could refuse, he began talking again.

“With your background as a school counselor, you'd be a great addition.” His voice was filled with enthusiasm. “I know it's just temporary, but we're funded by grants and donations, so we do have a small budget. In addition to getting room and board for two weeks, you'd be paid a salary.”

She would have expected it to be a fraction of what he said, but it was more than she earned at her part-time job. They must have a generous benefactor.

“When does it start?” she asked.

He cleared his throat. “Next week. Sorry for the late notice. I hope it will work out for you. Someone else backed out—broke her leg in a boating accident—so a spot opened up.”

“As a counselor?” she asked.

“Uh, partly.”

His suddenly evasive tone made her curious. “And what else?”

“How do you feel about peeling potatoes?” he asked with an edge of humor. “She was also going to help out the cook.”

Posy hopped back onto the bed and butted Emma's hand.

“Hey, baby,” Emma cooed, patting her silky fur. “Looking for attention?”

“Look, I'm obviously interrupting something,” the voice over the phone said hastily. “Why don't you think it over and get back to me. Just tell Cora that I'm expecting your call.”

His sudden abruptness puzzled Emma. Before she could say anything, Posy apparently got tired of waiting for breakfast. She let out a yowl of displeasure as only a Siamese could, right into the receiver.

“I hope that didn't destroy your eardrums,” Emma said quickly as she pushed Posy away.

“Was that a cat?” He sounded startled. Maybe he didn't like animals.

“Yeah. I think she's hungry.”

The richness of his chuckle surprised Emma again. “I thought—Well, never mind what I thought.”

His voice had shifted, becoming huskier and definitely more human. The image of his face, tan complexion, dark hair and blue eyes flashed across her consciousness as the intimacy of his tone sent shivers down her bare arms.

Her hand tightened on the receiver as suddenly it dawned on her why he hadn't finished voicing his assumption. He could tell that she'd been asleep when he called. He'd overheard her comment to her cat and assumed she was making pillow talk with a lover!

Emma couldn't decide whether to be flattered or embarrassed, but her free hand tugged automatically on the neckline of her nightie, making sure she was decently covered.

“Where's the camp session going to be held?” she asked.

“It's in a fantastic place called Camp Baxter in the Cascade foothills. We lease their facility every year.”

“I've heard of it, but I've never been there,” she replied. “I'm not really an outdoorsy kind of person.” Roughing it in the great outdoors had never attracted her, and being a contestant on
Survivor
was her worst nightmare. She was too fond of her creature comforts—not that she'd be able to afford them for much longer if she didn't get a steady job.

“We'll change that.” His voice was full of confidence.

Maybe she didn't
want
that part of her changed. Being pampered was way more appealing than sleeping on a bed of pine cones and rushes.

“I don't know—”

“Why don't you mull over the idea and give me a call back, today or tomorrow if you can?” he suggested. “The kids you'll be working with are terrific.
You'll love them. We bus them out there, and the rest of the staff takes a van.”

“If I can find someone to cat-sit, I'll do it,” Emma said, going totally on impulse.

It wasn't the idea of fresh air that attracted her, it was getting a second chance with the person who held the key to her genealogy!

“Are you sure?” He must have been a little taken aback by her quick acceptance.

“Yes,” she replied, thinking fast. Even though he had been the one to call her, the last thing she wanted was to make him suspicious. “It would be a great addition to my résumé,” she added.

“Well, that's probably true. Why don't you deal with the cat and let me know for sure?”

As soon as she agreed and ended the call, Emma bolted for the bathroom. That would teach her to drink a soda right before bedtime.

 

“Of course I'll feed your cat,” Ivy said, “but I wish you'd reconsider the entire idea.”

The two friends were sitting on Emma's old couch sharing a pizza that Ivy had brought with her. Emma was beginning to wish that she hadn't told Ivy about her plan to persuade the director to change his mind and let her see her file. Thank goodness she hadn't confided her entire scheme. For someone who had grown up rich, Ivy could be remarkably naive and easily shocked.

“I've struck out in trying to find my parents' names through any other source,” Emma said around a mouthful of pepperoni pizza. “This guy is my last hope.”

“Maybe your parents—” At Emma's glare, Ivy shook her head. “Pardon me. Maybe your
adoptive
parents had the right idea when they asked you to put it behind you so you can move on,” she continued.

Before Emma could interrupt, Ivy put a hand on her arm. “Hear me out, okay?”

Emma nodded, frustrated, and tore off another bite of pizza. Ivy's upbringing had been far from ordinary, but she didn't seem to understand Emma's determination. This could very well be her only opportunity to solve the mystery of her past.

“You said this guy Morgan is really attractive, right?” Ivy asked. “And he doesn't wear a wedding ring, so he's probably not married.”

“Lots of guys don't—”

Ivy ignored Emma's interruption. “What if your plan to get on his good side backfires? I mean, what if he's single and you get to know him really well? What if he's a great guy and you end up falling for him?”

“That's not going to happen!” Emma huffed. She didn't need that kind of complication right now.

“You're completely over Don, right?” Ivy asked after she'd taken a ladylike sip of her soda.

“Need you ask?” Emma rolled her eyes. “Toad-boy deserted me when I needed him. He stopped
loving me—if he ever did to start with—because of something that wasn't my fault.”

Just thinking about her ex-husband was enough to destroy Emma's appetite. What had she ever seen in him? Why had she wanted
children
with him?

Angrily she set aside her paper plate. “I am so over that creep that I hope I never see his face again.”

“See?” Ivy exclaimed. “You're emotionally vulnerable. Spending two weeks in close quarters with the new hunk could get complicated, especially the kind of hunk who might be the total opposite of toad-boy.”

“How so?” Emma patted the couch cushion.

Posy jumped up between them and settled down with her front paws tucked under her fluffy fur.

“Well, it sounds like he's kindhearted as well as cute,” Ivy replied as she held out her fingers for the cat to sniff.

“Kindhearted?” Emma echoed. “I don't think so. Remember how Mr. Kindness treated me?”

“Maybe so, but anyone willing to give up prime August vacation time for a group of orphans must have a
few
noble qualities,” Ivy retorted.

“I'm not attracted to him,” Emma insisted. If she were Pinocchio, her nose would have provided them both with firewood for the winter. Under very different circumstances, she
might
have been interested.

“I wish you'd reconsider,” Ivy said, blotting her mouth with a napkin. “I'm not saying that you
shouldn't go, because I think the break would do you good. Spending time with nature can be a healing experience.”

She ignored Emma's derisive snort. Outdoor plumbing and bug bites didn't sound very healing to her!

“You won't accept a loan from me,” Ivy continued, “so I can't, in good conscience, advise you to turn this down. I just wish you'd forget the idea of trying to manipulate him into going against the rules.”

Unless Emma agreed, they weren't going to have time to watch the latest Brad Pitt movie, and she had to return it tomorrow. “I'll think about what you said,” she conceded reluctantly.

Maybe Ivy was right and Emma's scheme was beyond ridiculous, but she had to do something to put her life back on track. Other than landing a great job so she could get caught up on the bills, she just wasn't sure where to start.

 

Most of the staff rode to camp in a van, but Morgan liked to accompany the kids, nearly thirty of them this year. He rode in the bus.

The trip to the site near the Deschutes National Forest in central Oregon took about three hours. That was plenty of time for Morgan to renew friendships with the kids who'd attended last year's session, to start sizing up the new kids and to mentally begin pairing them off.

After a round of introductions, he led them in camp songs until his throat hurt. With each passing mile, he could feel his personal stress melting away. Sometimes people asked how he could give up the chance to spend his vacation in Hawaii or Mexico, but more than anywhere else in the world, Camp Baxter held a special place in his heart.

The bus signaled to pull off the road at a rest area so they could use the facilities and eat their sack lunches. The van that followed behind them carried the ice chest full of cold drinks. The cook and one of the helpers had gone up earlier with the rest of the supplies.

He wondered if Emma Wright would find the forest of soaring firs and the deep lake as breathtaking as he always did. She had sounded like a real tenderfoot on the phone and she hadn't said much when they all met in the hospital parking lot with their duffels and sleeping bags this morning.

Since she was the only newcomer, he had introduced her to the others. Before he could offer to help with her gear, Jeff, a male nurse at Portland General, took the opportunity to show off his muscles. The spurt of possessiveness Morgan felt when he watched her smile at Jeff had caught him off guard.

Now Morgan lurched to his feet as the bus braked to a stop. “Okay, kids, stay in your seats until I tell you to get up, okay?” he said.

“I gotta
go!
” a young boy shouted, followed by a chorus of “Me, too. Me, too.”

Morgan ducked down to look out the window and see if the van had arrived. He'd learned the hard way not to turn the kids loose until the reinforcements had arrived, or they would scatter like spilled buckshot in a munitions factory.

To his relief, the van pulled up right next to them. No doubt the rest of the staff members were also grateful for the pit stop, especially the ones who had begun the trip carrying large coffee mugs from Starbucks. People in the northwest loved their coffee.

He nodded to the driver, who opened the door. After Morgan had descended the steps first, he helped the younger passengers out. His assistants quickly separated the boys and girls into two groups and led them away.

“No running!” Heidi called out. She was a caseworker, too, and her husband, Derrick, was in the second year of his residency at Portland General. Between him, Jeff and those who were Red Cross certified, there would be no shortage of trained medical personnel.

Emma, wearing denim cutoffs and a plaid blouse, was the last to exit the van. Jeff helped her down, saying something that made her laugh before he, too, hurried toward the long, low main building.

When her gaze met Morgan's, she surprised him by smiling before she donned blue-tinted sunglasses. After her outburst back in his office the first time they had met, he hadn't been sure what to expect, despite her civility on the phone.

One of the female college students waited for Emma to join her.

“Doing okay?” Morgan asked the two of them.

“I can't wait to get there,” Franny replied.

Emma merely nodded before Franny gestured toward the facilities and the two of them walked away together. In a few moments, the kids would be coming back to the picnic tables, so Morgan took advantage of the break as well.

 

“He's so cute,” Franny said under her breath as she and Emma hurried down the path. “Don't you think so?”

Except for Morgan, the bus driver and the two staffers who had driven over earlier, everyone else was riding together in the van. The five others already knew each other and they had all been at the camp before. Franny and another girl, Sarah, had made a special point of including Emma in the lively conversation.

Emma would have liked to ignore Franny's question about Morgan, but she didn't want to appear unfriendly.

“I consider any man with black hair and blue eyes to be attractive,” she replied, attempting to sound flip as they joined the line on the ladies' side of the concrete building.